Venom
by Oirowin
Summary: There is nothing so sweet as to feel the venom rush through your veins and know the snake who bit you. Warnings: hard slash, language, drug use, suicide, death of multiple characters, pissy emotions. Prequel to Daggers.
1. Chapter I

Venom

Harry focused his eyes on the empty parchment in front of him. He looked to the board for the fifth time in hope of sparking some spec of knowledge. He read the assignment to himself

"_Write a one page essay on the Erkling and what effect it has on society." _

He closed his eyes hoping to draw the jumbled words in his head to a sentence. Surrounded in the darkness of his mind he could hear Hermione to his right scratching away in tiny print as to not go past the one page limit. To his left he could hear Ron, scratching slowly as to not skip any part of his fable. Harry felt the quill in his hand and wished it wrote itself. He starred at the blank parchment once again.

"Quills down."

Harry watched as the class offered their well-written essays up for grading. He placed his quill in his bag before tossing his blank parchment on the top of the stack.

"Harry, you didn't write anything!" Hermione remarked.

"Thanks for pointing that out to the class," he mumbled back.

She huffed, placing her essay on top of his and following him out of class, Ron close behind

"Harry wait! What's gotten into you? You're studies have been slipping lately."

"Hermione," he said, turning to face her. "Leave me alone!"

Hermione was speechless as she watched him continue towards the Common Room.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked.

"I-I don't know…I just asked about his studies."

"Oh, smart move Hermione."

She glared at him before beginning a trek towards the library.

"Of course, go somewhere you know I won't follow."

"That's my point."

Harry slowed down after turning to corner out of his friend's view. The truth of the matter slowly materialized in his head, _I'm going to fail my 6th year. _He reached the common room before anymore thoughts progressed on the subject.

"Why the long face Harry?" Fred Weasly asked, slinging his arm around his shoulders.

"Bugger off," he replied, removing the slung arm and taking to the stairs.

"It's Hermione isn't it!" Fred called up the stairs.

"SHOVE OFF!" Harry replied, slamming the door for greater effect.

"I knew it," Fred smiled to himself.

Harry flopped on his bed, determined not to throw or break anything. His scarred hands formed fists as he tried to calm his anger. _It's not their fault, they just don't understand. Damn them. _His fists released. Taking in deep breaths, he sat up and was faced with a scrawny version of himself, his green eyes dull and his generally messy hair completely untamed. _What am I doing to myself? _The boy in the mirror scowled back at him, a five o'clock shadow asking to be shaved. Harry walked closer to his reflection. The vision pained him. Bloodshot eyes and permanent bags under them detailed what his life had become.

He felt his hands shake at his side, the lack of substance taking a toll on him. He closed his eyes to try to block the pain from his mind, erase his ghostly figure from his sight. Once again surrounded in darkness, Harry tried to pull himself together. Before too long, that darkness was interrupted with streaming images of his parents, happy and laughing. They were soon washed out by his mother's screams, echoing in the deepest corners of his mind. Harry's eyes snapped open, wet streaks marred his cheeks, his eyes glistening with sadness. _Bloody hell. _He slammed his fist onto the desk, causing the mirror to shake, his image blurring.

"Alohamora," he barely spoke.

A thin drawer just below the desk unlocked. He ripped it open revealing his poison of choice. He starred at the bag of freedom; his fingers itched to break the seal. The syringe, already filled with heroin, glistened in his hands. Harry toyed with the plastic, not wanting to succumb to the drugs power, not wanting to turn to its release yet again.

His will gave out moments later. With trembling fingers, he opened the bag, taking out all of its contents. He striped of his robe, exposing past injections that had bruised. With ease he strapped the tourniquet to his right arm, the adrenaline was rising. He quickly uncapped the needle revealing the shinny point. The prick of the needle no longer fazed him, all he felt was the heroin entering his veins, the process becoming almost pleasurable. He watched the syringe as the level of substance dropped lower and lower, the thoughts of suicide flowered in his mind. Lower the numbers dropped, more vivid the thoughts became. _No one would ever find me. I could live with my parents and Sirius…_

"Harry?" a voice came from down the hall.

"Shit," he whispered, pulling the needle out and removing the tourniquet in one motion.

"Harry? Are you in there?"

"Hold on, Ron!" he yelled back, shoving the contents back into the plastic bag.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine!"

He shoved the bag into the drawer and locked it. The door opened as Harry managed to get his robe on. He turned to face the entering Ron.

"Hey Ron," he said fastening the final button on his robe. "Why aren't you at dinner?"

"I was coming to get you," he said looking over Harry's shoulder at the vacant desk. "What were you doing, Harry?"

"Nothing, I had just woken up."

Ron's eyes caught something on the smooth desk surface. "Harry what's this?" he asked pushing him out of the way and wiping a drop of heroin off the table.

"Probably spit," he replied, trying not to be annoyed.

"It doesn't smell like spit," Ron said, sniffing his finger.

"Its spit, come on Ron, I'm getting hungry," Harry said wrapping his arm around his best friend, leading him out of the room.

At dinner, Harry tried to focus on eating but his eyes continually went out of focus. He was beginning to see small buoyant lights enter the Great Hall floating his way. One landed on his nose, causing him to go cross-eyed to see the tiny faerie.

"Harry?"

"Huh?" he said, snapping from the faerie on his nose.

"What are you looking at your nose for?" Ron asked.

"Do you not see faerie?" he asked pointing to his nose.

Ron stared at him blankly.

"There's one right there too," he said pointing to Ron's goblet.

"Harry…mate, there's nothing there but my drink and your nose."

"Are you sure? Maybe it's the light your in, look here," he said pulling the highly confused Ron to his side, almost knocking him from his seat.

"No Harry, it's not any better over here."

"Really?" he said, pushing him back to his original spot. "I mean, they're right there. The one in your goblet just waved," he said, waving back.

"Harry, I think you're going mental, that's what I think. Maybe you should go back to bed."

"Yeah, bed sounds good. Not very hungry anyway," he said getting up.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Not to do my homework," he mocked.

Hermione "humphed" as he rose.

Harry managed to get to his feet and leave the Great Hall without causing trauma to himself or others, the faeries following him. Away from the noise of dinner, Harry felt the drug's control over his body. The stairs blurred in and out as he tried to climb them with slow success. The faeries kept their distance from his troubling body.

"Mister Potter," a sneering voice crept around the corner. "What, may I ask, _are_ you doing?"

"I wasn't hungry sir," Harry retorted, becoming very engrossed in a green faerie.

"Coming from anyone other than you, I'd believe it."

"I'm sorry to hear that Professor, I'm simply going back the common room."

He began to walk away from under the hooked nose of Snape. "Good evening, Professor. You can keep the faerie."

"Wha- Potter, what are you talking about?" Snape asked.

"Why doesn't anyone _see_ the fucking faeries!"

Snape stared at the skeletal figure as it disappeared around the corner, swatting at something invisible. "I'm watching you Potter," he hissed.

Harry grimaced as he entered the common room, the drug's effect finally taking its toll. The faeries began to fade as he headed up the stairs. The last thing he remembered before his vision went black was entering his dormitory, all his pain finally falling away.

In the darkness of his mind, a tiny golden ball appeared before his eyes. It fluttered around his head, the tiny wings marking it as a snitch. Harry instinctively caught it, causing it to tremble in his grasp. He let it go, catching it again. The darkness supporting his dream-image transformed into stone, Hogwarts appearing before his eyes. Students bustled past him, minding their own business. Harry realized the snitch was no longer wiggling in his grasp, his wand had replaced it. The wood felt warm and reassuring as he headed down the hall. Turning the first corner, Harry spotted his nemesis. The blonde's back to him, insulting some poor first year no doubt, Harry felt a rush of adrenaline shoot up his spine. He could catch him off guard, take him down. Without checking the audience, he made a running start, wand at the ready. Four steps away and Harry tripped, falling head first into a pensive.

He landed on a cold stone floor, no where in particular. The room was, at first glance, completely empty. He rose to his feet wondering whose pensive he had stumbled across. As he turned to look behind him, a reflection in a distant corner caught his eye. He moved towards the shine that nearly blinded him, though no sun graced the room. When Harry arrived at the heart of the glow, he found, to his surprise, the infamous Mirror of Erised. Once standing in front of it, the reflection vanished. Harry expected to see his parents, smiling back at him but received a very different image. The blonde of moments ago stared back at Harry. He didn't understand, his heart's desire was Draco Malfoy? Maybe to kill him, but even that was not what he wanted the most. Malfoy smiled and waved, gestures alien to his face and body. Harry gasped as he blew a kiss his way. _What the fuck?_ A wink was the final straw, Harry ran from the mirror's horror, hoping to find a way out.

Harry's eyes flickered open, the darkness ebbing to light. A plain golden lion focused in his eye.

"Uhg…"he moaned, realizing he was flat on the floor of his dormitory. He lifted his face off the floor, his head immediately protesting. "Uh…"

"Harry?"

"Huh…"

"Harry, mate…are you finally awake?"

"Uh-huh…" he replied trying to pull his head off the floor.

"I would've helped you into bed but you were as heavy as a led weight and I couldn't wake you. I was a bit nervous you know."

"Thanks Ron," he mumbled, collapsing back to the floor.

"You don't look well Harry," he said helping his limp body to sitting position. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"No," he said firmly, pulling form Ron's grip.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, steadying the wobbling Harry. "You're a bit paler than normal."

"I'm fine, I'm sure it was something I ate."

"But you didn't-"

"I'm fine."

"Alright them, I'll see you in Transfiguration."

Harry nodded as Ron let go and headed for the door. He turned to face the mirror of his sorrows before Ron was out the door.

"Are you sure you don't-"

"YES!"

The door shut firmly as Ron left the room.

When Harry finally made it to Transfiguration, his downward spiralling morning took a nosedive. Besides having the class with Slytherin, McGonagall decided to surprise them.

"Please remove your books and prepare your quills."

Harry and Ron joined the rest of the class in groans while Hermione sat straight up in her chair, her quill shivering with the need to write. McGonagall's wand tapped the board, their assignment appearing in simple cursive.

"Describe how to transfigure a living animal into any inanimate object and why this is widely used. Use specific details."

Harry once again stared at his blank piece of parchment, watching and hoping the answer would come. He remembered the day they learned this, he tried to turn his rat into a goblet. Though this was an improvement from not knowing anything, it would not suffice for the question asked.

Time ticked away slowly, offering the opportune time to wallow in his complete failure. Hermione's annoying know-it-all quill scratching added to the mood.

"Class dismissed, please stack your essays on my desk on your way out."

Hermione frantically wrote one final sentence.

"Mr. Potter, please stay behind," McGonagall said as he turned in his blank parchment. Harry managed not to roll his eyes before taking his seat again.

"I'll see you at lunch Harry," Ron said before following Hermione out of the classroom. Harry waved as a good gesture, but doubted he would appear at lunch. When the last student left, McGonagall began to speak.

"Mr. Potter, I have watched you grow into the man you are today and I am asking myself a new question, 'Whatever happened to The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

"I'm sorry I don't understand the question," Harry replied coolly.

"Is that your excuse for this essay as well? You didn't understand the question?"

"No ma'am, I understood the question, I just went blank, as my parchment will show you."

"I know perfectly well what your parchment will show me," she snapped. In a whisper she added, "Harry, what on earth is going on?"

He stayed silent, not having a valid answer. _I have nothing left to live for. Everyone is gone. All I have left is pain. I'm alone. _

"Mr. Potter, I asked you a question."

"And I can't answer it."

"Can't…or won't."

"That's just it professor, everyone thinks I won't do this and won't do that, I won't answer the question, I won't win the Quidditch match. Well let me tell you something, Professor, I'm not looking for your sympathy or your compassion or your worry. I'm not looking for your attention or anyone else's. I'm just looking for myself," he remarked, feeling very full of himself at that moment. "Now if we're finished here, I'd like to eat with the few friends I have left."

Without McGonagall's permission, Harry stood up and left the classroom. Watching the door shut, McGonagall let the fear of what Harry had just said sink in. A single tear slipped from her aging eyes, a flicker of pain drowned out by sadness.

"Nice show, Potter."

Harry stopped, mid-step. The ice of the voice chilled his spine and crippled his ears.

"I would've loved to have seen it in person," he paused. "I'm just looking for myself," he mocked.

Harry faced the putrid scum egging him on. "Malfoy, if you say one more word, I swear to Dumbledore, my wand will be so far down your throat you'll be barfing slugs for a month."

"Is that a threat?"

"Like hell it is."

"Bring it on."

Harry and Malfoy revealed their wands with matching motions. Before Malfoy could get "Expelliarmus!" completely out, Harry matched it, sending both wands flying out of the other's hand.

"Good show Potter, you've proven you can duel, let's see if you can fight."

Harry watched Malfoy crack his knuckles, the intimidation barely affecting him. He waited for him to make the first move, crouching low to the floor.

"Let's go," he called.

Malfoy lunged. With lightning quick reflexes, Harry dodged the attack, rolling to all fours, and loosing sight of his opponent. One step identified the location of Malfoy, who once again lunged for the back of the unaware Potter. Harry felt his face meet cold stone, Malfoy having complete control over him. Harry's arm was snapped to his back, twisted as far as it would go without breaking.

"Give up?" Malfoy sneered.

"Never."

Malfoy pulled his arm even higher, the pain making Harry cringe.

"I think now would be a good time to quit, Potter."

"I think you're a bastard."

Malfoy found enough of Harry's face to slap it.

"Fighting like a girl now?"

He pulled Harry up by the scruff of the neck.

"Say that to my face."

Harry kicked, as hard as he could, at Malfoy's legs. He was dropped and quickly took up residence on Malfoy's stomach, pinning him to the floor, Harry's arm across his neck.

"Going to suffocate me, eh, Potter?" he managed to say.

"Only to shut you up!"

He placed a knee just above Malfoy's groin, causing fear to flicker across his eyes for the first time.

"Hermione taught me well."

"Learning how to fight from a Mudblood?"

"She can fight better then you," he spat, closing Malfoy's windpipe a little more.

"You wouldn't kill me, Potter. You don't have….the…balls."

Harry pushed harder on Malfoy's neck; the hint of blue on his face caused him to smile.

"Oh really?"

Harry's hold on Malfoy was much stronger then looked possible to present from his small, withered frame. He had obviously underestimated him.

"Mr. Potter!" a shrill voice came from around the corner. "Mr. Malfoy!"

Harry instantly let up on Malfoy's throat and released his body. Malfoy in turn, quickly slid from under Harry and managed to stand.

"Professor," Harry said, facing the shrewd looking McGonagall.

"He attacked me, Professor!" Malfoy rambled. "It's all his fault," he hissed.

"Mr. Malfoy, though I try not to favour my house, I would have to admit, Mr. Potter attacking you without any reason would be highly unlikely."

"But it's true –"

Harry tried to hide a smile.

"Mr. Malfoy, I don't want an explanation now. You can both tell me what happened in detention. For a week."

Without further word, McGonagall left. Both boys' mouths were caught open.

"Look what you did," Malfoy sneered.

"Shove off."

"This isn't over Potter."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

They both headed in opposite directions, looking over their shoulders to watch the other leave.

Harry arrived back at the common room in record time. It was nearly empty as most were at lunch. Double Potions would be hell. He wondered up the stairs, hoping no one would be in his dormitory. The silence of the room was perfect. Harry locked the door and silently moved towards the dresser and what lied within. His motions were automatic as Harry filled himself with simple pleasure, the rest of the syringe empting into his blood. He replaced the cap on the needle and placed in into the empty plastic bag. As he turned to burry it with the other dead soldiers, his eyes met the one face he didn't want to see.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

"Ron it's not what you think," Harry jumped.

"No Harry, I think it is, exactly what I think," Ron said softly. "How long have you been doing this to yourself?"

Harry looked at his feet, not able to face his best friend. He moved towards his mattress and carefully lifted it. Over a dozen empty needles lie there, he tossed the one in his hand to join them. "For a while now."

"Harry…why?"

He couldn't answer that, not with the truth, not ever.

"Harry, I'm your best friend," Ron continued. "And I plan to stay that forever. You can tell me anything."

"I know Ron," he hissed. "But this is something I never thought I would have to tell anyone. Let alone you."

"I'm sorry you feel that way Harry, but I'm not leaving until I get an answer."

"Why did I start doing drugs? Is that what you want to know?" Harry spat.

"Yes."

"I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear from the world forever. I wanted to see my parents," Harry said, his voice getting smaller as he went on. "I found this, kid. He told me that this would take me away from the world. He said it could even kill me." He looked to Ron for the first time. "And even after all my muggle schooling, telling me drugs are bad, I looked him in the eyes and paid him for everything he had."

"Harry…"

"Ron, you can't tell anyone. Not a teacher, not a student, and especially not Hermione."

"I know but…Harry, how can I not? My best friend is killing himself!"

"Ron, I would love to tell you otherwise, but I can't. If you can't live with the secret, don't be my friend."

"Harry, I could never just leave you."

"I'm sure you could, if you really wanted to."

"Harry, shut up! You can wallow in your pitiful existence while I'm not around, but when I'm here, I'd like a little more respect then this!"

Harry clammed up like an oyster.

"Damn you Harry, how could you do this?"

"I already told you…"

Ron's eyes flicked to the clock on his bedside table.

"We're late for Potions. Come on you."

Harry rose and steadied himself before being led out of the common room.

"Are you going to be able to learn, under that…stuff?" Ron asked, halfway to the dungeons.

"Probably not, I don't much care anymore. It's going to be hell anyway, got in a fight with Malfoy just during lunch. Probably told the whole school he won."

"Did he?"

"No, McGonagall stopped me from suffocating him."

"Ah..."

Ron let Harry stand up by himself for a moment before entering the classroom. They both kept their heads down as to not see the looks from their classmates.

"Ah…if it isn't Mr. Potter and his sidekick," Snape's cool voice stung.

"We're sorry sir, Harry got sick," Ron tried to bluff.

"Is that so? I heard he got into a little brawl during lunch. He couldn't have been _that_ sick if he managed to pin Mr. Malfoy," he sneered.

"Damn," Ron said under his breath.

"10 points from Gryffindor for lying Mr. Weasley and 10 points each for being late with no excuse. Please, take your seats."

Harry slumped into a chair next to Ron and tried to float off to his drug-filled world. He reached his final destination with little trouble.

"Mr. Potter, for the fourth time, what is the main ingredient of a Sleeping Drought!"

Harry managed to open one eye, the one closest to the sneering sound of Snape.

"I'm sorry what?"

"Detention Mr. Potter, that's what!"

"But sir, I'm sorry, I already have detention with McGonagall this week," he said with little emotion, opening his other eye.

"Well then I suppose you should book next week as well, to clean out MY CAULDRONS!" Snape bellowed.

"Let me pencil you in."

"50 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry rolled his eyes and forced himself upright. Ron nudged him in his ribs causing him to recoil.

"Ow!"

"Shut you face, Harry!"

He glared at Ron but followed his orders. Class was dismissed shortly after.

"Dragon Scales," a slightly high pitched voice said from behind Harry.

"What?" he said turning to face Hermione.

"That was the answer to Snape's question," she said matter-of-factly.

"Really?" he said, raising his voice. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she said, not fazed. "And if you had paid attention in class you would've known it!"

"Well that's great!"

"Harry I didn't become your friend to make a spectacle of you."

"Really? I would've never guessed!"

"Harry that's not fair!"

He stepped closer to his good friend, their faces almost touching.

"Life isn't fair, Hermione. I never asked you to be my friend," he whispered. "And I'm going to ask you to stay as far away from me as you can. Forever."

Hermione had nothing to say. She kept her face in a stone cold glare, her eyes fixed on Harry's. Before he turned to walk to dinner with Ron she mustered up the strength to say something.

"Not a problem."

He acted as though he didn't even hear her.

"Harry, what was that all about!?" Ron shouted.

"She deserved it."

"She doesn't deserve anything but your friendship," he whispered. "And I would hate for you to loose her because of something stupid you did!"

"Too late. She's out of my life now."

"I can't believe you."

Harry looked to Ron for the first time during the conversation. His flaming eyes matched the cold of Ron's

"I don't want to loose you, Harry."

"Let's get to dinner; I don't want to be late for detention."

Ron followed Harry into the Great Hall. _Even his walk has changed, _he thought to himself. _What else can go wrong? _

Ron answered his own question. Harry sat across from Neville and Dean like always, while Hermione sat near the other end with Lavender and Parvati. They both looked to Ron to sit with them. _Bloody hell! _ He closed his eyes and moved towards Harry.

"Good choice, mate," Harry said, clapping him on the back. "Glad to see whose side you're on."

"There are no sides Harry! This is not a bloody war!"

Hermione sighed as she watched Ron sit with Harry. _Another one lost. Hermione, get a hold of yourself! _

"Oi! Hermione!" Lavender said. "What are you looking at?"

"Oh, nothing. Just having a bit of a think."

"Oh," she said giggling. "Well, what do you _think_ of the Ravenclaw over there, the one with the black hair, talking to that blonde girl."

"Oh for heaven's sake! I can't take this!" she said, getting up and moving towards Harry and Ron.

_Oh no. _Ron thought, seeing Hermione making her way towards them.

"And we were having such a good time," Harry said, setting his goblet down.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said calmly.

"Hello. Is it really too much of a bother to sit here? I can't take much more of Lavender and Parvati."

"Wouldn't blame you," Dean added.

Ron wondered why she was looking at him instead of Harry.

"It's no bother to me."

"I'll be out of here in a moment anyway," Harry said staring at his plate. "I've got detention."

She took that as an 'ok' and sat down.

"I'll see you around, Ron."

"Alright."

Harry picked up his things and, leaving a half eaten plate, exited the Great Hall towards McGonagall's room


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

Harry managed to make to the classroom almost unscathed. A quick dodge and duck out of Peeve's way was all that haunted the halls during dinner. Not a minute after Harry walked in, Malfoy followed, smug as ever. He slouched into a desk and looked at everything but Harry.

"Good evening, Gentlemen," McGonagall said, coming out of the woodwork.

"Evening," they said in unison, both voices cold and distant.

"Tonight you will be –"

She was cut off by an explosion and the screams that followed.

"Stay here." McGonagall barely got her instructions out before she vanished.

"Nice display a stupidity back in Snape's class," Malfoy prodded.

"Thanks, I pride myself on my acting skills," Harry spit back, neither of them looking at the other.

"Something's gotten into you Potter, even_ I_ never expected you'd toss the Mudblood to the curb."

"Shove off, Malfoy."

"Shove off Malfoy," he mocked.

Harry had to consciously breathe and calm himself or he feared he would pick up where they left off after lunch.

"Come on, Potter. I can see it in your eyes, you want to hit me," Malfoy sneered. "Come on. I'd like to see you try."

"Malfoy, I'm not here to get more detention, I already have next week with Snape," Harry said. "And I'd suggest you shut your face before I make you."

"Mmm…remember where threats got you last time Potter?"

"Yeah, I almost killed you."

"You wanna try that again!" Malfoy said, swiftly moving to Harry. "I bet you couldn't pin me."

Harry stifled a cough. Malfoy's breath was hot on his face, the feeling it sent through his body was oddly different. He didn't like it.

"What? Are you scared now?"

Malfoy was closer now, their noses almost touching, his hands pinned Harry to his chair. His eyes flicked with pain and fear, Harry saw it all.

"Come off it Malfoy," Harry said, his breath mixing with Malfoy's. Malfoy retreated, heading back to his chair. "You know you couldn't take me."

"That's it, bring it on!" he bellowed, turning to face Harry.

He chucked, rising to his feet. "Malfoy, you really should learn to control that temper, it could get you in trouble one day."

"That day is long gone."

"Wands or no wands?" Harry asked, bellying up to the bar.

"Hands only," Malfoy said with a wicked smile.

They circled each other like a hawk does his prey. Their eyes never left each other's hands. Malfoy's in a fist, Harry's itching to pull at anything they came in contact with. The two vicious animals prepared to strike.

Malfoy lunged, pinning Harry down by his arm that was quickly loosened from his grip. Harry managed to his feet.

"You can do better then that."

"You're right…"

Malfoy swung at him, brushing his cheek. Harry's reflexes were coming in handy. Malfoy fell forward, only to be caught by Harry. He threw him backwards, watching the blonde fall crumpled to the floor. Slowly he rose to his feet again.

"Come on, Slytherin."

This time Malfoy struck Harry's shoulder. A sharp pain shot up his neck, but he regained control. Harry hit cold Malfoy flesh. They both fell to the floor, Harry on top. Using the same method as before, Harry pinned Malfoy to the floor.

"I couldn't pin you eh?"

He struggled under the grip of his enemy. Sliding lower, Malfoy got his legs free enough to kick.

"We'll see about that," he said smugly.

Harry's eyes went black as something hard hit his back. He fell off Malfoy, and crumbled into a ball.

"You…you cheated," he said out of breath.

"Never trust a Malfoy to follow the rules."

"Son of a bitch."

"Hell yes."

Malfoy picked Harry up by his robes and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Poor baby…" he said, gently tapping his face. "Too bad you're going to lose." With that last word, Malfoy slapped him hard across the face. Harry fell to the floor.

He was on all fours, waiting for Malfoy's next strike, his breath coming in short gulps. Malfoy stooped to his level, grabbing his hair to focus his eyes towards him. Before he could say anything, Harry pushed with everything he had left. Malfoy was sent across the room.

"Never trust a Potter to give up," he said, standing slowly.

Harry looked at his nemesis, lying at his feet. The slow rise and fall of his chest made Harry's breath catch. Malfoy's shirt was wet with sweat, it accentuated every toned muscle. His slightly open mouth made saliva rush into Harry's. He swallowed hard.

Harry was suddenly on the ground beside him; Malfoy had pulled his feet out from under him. His chiselled body was resting above him now, Harry waited for the punch. Malfoy's hands pinned his shoulders to the cold stone, his knee kept his torso from moving. Neither said anything. All that could be heard was the shallow breathing of both, the hotness of it brushing each face. Harry muffled a shiver. Draco licked his lips hungrily, Harry's mind falling into the gutter.

"What're you going to do now Potter?" Malfoy barely whispered.

He contemplated an answer, but his mind wasn't working fast enough, it was slowed by the feeling of Malfoy's hands rubbing into his shoulder blades. The pain felt good. He felt his muscles contract as he let a groan leave his lips. Malfoy had kneed him in the stomach, just above his groin. The pain was just enough to hurt, to actually faze him.

"Feel good?"

"Nothing I haven't felt before," Harry moaned, trying to wiggle free of the Slytherin's grip.

"I could go lower if you desire," he prodded.

"And I could kick your ass."

"In this position, something tells me you couldn't touch me."

"Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's voice questioned. She couldn't see them on the floor.

They quickly separated and Malfoy stood up.

"I'm here professor, Harry's around here somewhere."

"Good," she said spotting Harry, who had crawled to the other side of the desk and risen. "I have to cut this detention short, we've had an explosion in the hallway as you heard. Some students need to be mended. I just got it settled down. I will see you tomorrow, Gentlemen."

They nodded and McGonagall left the room.

"I had you that time."

"That you did, but it looks like neither of us can grow the balls to kill the other."

"Speak for yourself."

Harry hid the smile that flickered across his lips. Malfoy did the same. They left together, heading in different directions. Detention was hell.


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

Harry arrived back at the common room. It was full with Gryffindors who had just finished dinner and were now studying, doing homework, or the Weasleys. Harry managed to glide up to his dormitory without being seen, he hoped. The drawer was the first thing that came into view, it was slightly ajar. Harry felt his stomach sink followed by hard-core panic. _Who else knows? _

He made sure no one was in the room before rushing to the drawer's side. He pulled it open to reveal a whole new stash, the Provider had come. _He's getting a bit sloppy with his drop offs. _ Harry counted the bags, 24 in all. That would last him almost a month, if he was careful. He locked the drawer without another look.

Harry collapsed onto his bed and looked to the window. The moon was just rising and the stars barely peaked out of the clouds. Hedwig had been gone for weeks, almost a month. He was beginning to worry she had gotten lost, or forgot about him. Thoughts of her death kept entering his mind, but he extinguished them before they grew. His eyes fluttered shut, as he fell into a land of natural sleep for the first time since he can remember.

"Alohamora," a soft, whispered voice spoke.

Harry barely heard it; he pulled himself from the vast expanse of slumber. He didn't open his eyes, his ears heightening their sense.

He heard a rustle of plastic. _What could it be?_ The rip of a seal sent fear down his spine, someone was in his stash, someone was going to use his release, his power. He strained his ears even farther. Another rustle indicated the search for a tourniquet. This person knew what they were doing. Harry forced his eyes open, his bed curtains blocking everything from sight. He debated jumping out at the stealer, scaring him away. _I could kill him if I did. _Harry managed to sit up without making much noise, not enough to spook him away.

A sound of struggle met his ears; the intruder must not be able to get the tourniquet tied. Harry was on his knees, close enough to curtains to pull them away just enough to see the desk and the person invading it. He reached his hand to the split, prepared to take the smallest look. A groan of pain made him move faster then he expected, Harry lost his balance and fell to the floor.

A tall red head let out a gasp and scrambled to shove everything away. Harry was faster, pulling himself to standing position, rising like a dark shadow behind his best friend.

"Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?!" his voice was harsh.

"Harry…"

"Yes Ron, now answer my question."

"I…I wanted t-to know…what it f-felt like…"

"What! You wanted to know what killing yourself felt like? How the poison felt rushing through your veins? How the things you see and feel make you realize how much you really hate the world? Ron what were you thinking! You could've died!" he exclaimed, never reaching more than a whisper.

"Harry, I just figured…t-that whatever it did…couldn't r-really hurt you…I mean, you're still here," he said facing Harry.

"Ron, I want to die, I want to leave everything I've ever done behind me. You want to live and grow old with a beautiful wife and have more kids than your parents. This is not what you want to do to yourself, damn it!"

"Harry…I-I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough; promise me you will never do this again. Promise me you will never open this drawer."

Ron looked into Harry's flaming green eyes. He saw fear and anger, but he also saw love. He knew he would have to agree.

"I promise."

Harry moved to turn away but thought of something else.

"Give me the needle."

Ron handed over the syringe still in his hand. Harry studied its heroin level and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky Ron, you barely got any in your blood. It shouldn't affect you."

Ron nodded and moved towards his bed, leaving Harry to clean up.

"Harry," he said. "Thank you."

"Go to bed, Ron."

He complied and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Harry made quick work of the cleanup and laid in bed the rest of the night, staring at the empty window and the dark expanse beyond.

Harry watched the sun rise and left the dormitory before any of the other occupants awoke. He made himself comfortable in front of the fireplace and waited for breakfast to be served.

"Harry?"

He waved the voice closer. "What?"

Harry was surprised to see a bushy brown head come into view. _I should get my hearing checked._

"Oh, it's you," he said looking back into the fire. "I thought we made a deal that we would never come within ten feet of each other."

"Harry, I can't."

"I didn't think_ can't_ was in your dictionary, Miss Granger," he added with a sting. "If you don't mind, I don't want to ruin my appetite."

"Humph," she said rising. "I hope you get everything you deserve, Mr. Potter."

"I will thanks."

Hermione glared at her lost friend as she walked away from him again. She promised herself never to feel sorry for him again.

Breakfast was the best meal Harry had had this week. The realization that today was an easy day in school work made it even better. Care of Magical Creatures was followed by Double Herbology and Divination. _Piece of cake. _

Ron was late to the Great Hall, but Harry figured as much. The drug, even the little that managed to get inside him, would make him sluggish for the day.

"Morning Ron."

"Morning Harry."

They didn't say much else but headed out to Hagrid's cabin for their first class. The disappointment that this class was with Slytherin did little to ruin Harry's mood. Malfoy's smug look only made him happier. The day was clear and breezy, nothing could go wrong.

For once, Harry was right. Walking to detention, he realized it was the happiest he had ever been this year. _Even Malfoy can't stop me now. _Entering the classroom, he felt his stomach tighten at the sight. In the farthest corner of the room sat Malfoy. His blonde hair fell oddly into his face; the breeze from the open window did little to help it. His jaw was bold and strong, his chin etched in stone. Malfoy's neck was slender and veined, one was particularly happy at the moment. His shoulders were hunched slightly and his arms were like baby trees, the muscles he retained were barely visible through his school robes. The Slytherin's hands, strong and full of power, tapped gently on the desk.

"What are you looking at Potter," he mumbled.

Harry realized he was still looking at him. His eyes quickly averted to something else as he took his seat. "Nothing much."

_What has gotten into me! _Harry had a hard time breathing as he thought of what he just saw. _There's no way. _

"Good evening, Gentlemen."

"Evening," Harry said. Malfoy just nodded in McGonagall's direction.

"I have found a job for you two," she said. "The Owlery needs a bit of cleaning, I offered your help."

Harry didn't like the thought of cleaning owl dung out of every corner of the tower but he figured it could be worse. Malfoy obviously thought it was the worst, he groaned with obvious dislike.

"Next time think of your actions before you attack someone," McGonagall said, addressing both boys. "Up with you now, Mr. Filtch is here to escort you."

They both rose to their feet and managed a quiet walk to the Owlery.

"Fun times, kiddies," Filtch hacked. "I'll be back for you in an hour."

Harry spotted the rags and brooms they were to use.

"Come on Malfoy, let's get started."

"I'm not doing this House elf's job," he snapped. "My father would have a fit."

"Too bad he's not here, get a broom."

"No."

Harry walked to the supplies and threw a broom at him. He moved smoothly out of the way, the clatter woke all sleeping owls causing a moment of panic.

"Pick it up."

"No."

"I'm not bickering with you Malfoy, pick it up or I will make you."

"You really should take McGonagall's words into consideration Potter," he sneered. "That temper could get you in trouble."

"Eat owl dung."

"That's your job."

Harry realized his day had just taken a turn for the worst.


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V**

"Malfoy," he began. "I have a bruise the size of London on my stomach; I am not fighting you again. Now pick up the broom!"

"Aww, did I hurt little Potter," he spat.

"I hit you a good few times too, you can't tell me you didn't bruise."

"Would you like to find out?" Malfoy smiled seductively.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"I said, 'It's none of your fucking business,' he repeated, a scowl attached. "What are you deaf?"

"Apparently," he said under his breath.

The tower fell to silence.

"Come on Malfoy, the quicker we get this done, the sooner we don't have to look at each other's faces."

Harry began with the nearest window, pushing multiple droppings onto the floor.

"You're making more work for me asshole."

Harry looked shocked at Malfoy's response; he was even more surprised to see the broom in his hand.

"I thought you weren't working."

"Shove off."

Harry turned his back to him before the smile appeared across his face.

"You better not be smirking at me or I'll punch that look into the back of your head."

Harry spun to face the blonde. "Oh really?"

"After we clean this place up."

Harry didn't like the tone in his voice, it was hiding something. He didn't bother to bring it up; instead, he wiped some more dung onto the floor and moved to the next window. They cleaned without a word, surprising to them both. Their job was done almost in half the time given. Harry knew it would lead to nothing good as the silence was broken.

"Ready to take me on?" he said, dropping the broom.

"I never said I would," Harry tread carefully. "Besides, I already told you I _wouldn't_ fight you again."

"Oh that's right….you're hurt."

Harry turned to face the blonde; his stomach reminding him just how hurt he was. He controlled his breathing just enough to calm his adrenaline.

"Come on, you can't control yourself," Malfoy whispered, coming closer to him.

Harry could feel his breath coming closer, the pain in his stomach quickly changed to fear, fear of what Malfoy could do to him when he felt…felt like…this.

"What's wrong Potter," he said shoving him. "Can't take a little…taunting?" He pushed him again, the wall meeting Harry's back.

Harry was frozen, his eyes stuck on Malfoy's lips. He watched as they moved, capturing him. When the Slytherin licked them, Harry stifled a moan.

"What is it Potter?" Malfoy whispered; his tone different then before. "Do you want something?"

Harry felt his legs weaken, if it weren't for the wall, he would've surly fallen to his knees.

"Lost your tongue?" Malfoy continued, his words slowing, his breath drawing closer.

_God yes. I think I might swallow it. _Harry gulped…hard.

"You're not…_scared_ are you?" Malfoy accentuated sacred for added effect.

He managed to shake his head in response to the blonde's tantalizing question. Malfoy pushed Harry flat against the wall with both hands placed on his shoulders. He licked his lips again, leaving his mouth open just a little longer. Harry desperately wanted to fall into his arms.

"Come on Harry."

He died at the sound of his name falling from those lips. His heart skipped a beat; he could feel it pounding quicker than normal. His stomach tightened with longing. The hands on his shoulders pinned him with such strength, such power. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of unseen things. _Where are these things coming from!_

"Let your guard down, Harry," Malfoy whispered. "I want to see the real you."

Harry swallowed again, his mouth instantly going dry. He licked his lips, unaware that he was doing so. He was at the end of his rope; his adrenaline was too high to stifle. Harry grabbed the Slytherin's shoulders and managed to shove him against the wall next to him.

"I knew you'd bite."

_Oh God. _

Their eyes locked, Harry's flaming green on Malfoy's stone grey, lion to snake, both predators. Malfoy moved first, his head lashing from the wall, his lips landing roughly on Harry's. The shock was washed out by pleasure. Harry quickly switched places with the blonde, his back shoved against the wall by strong hands, their lips still connected. Harry grabbed for his face, his hair. Malfoy ran his fingers up and down his chest. He pulled away, but only for seconds. Harry lunged at him, their lips connecting once again.

Malfoy walked, pulling Harry away from the wall by his robes.

"Take them off," he said, pulling ever so slightly away from Harry.

Harry complied, lips still linked. He struggled to unbutton the robes, Malfoy pushed them away. His fingers wandered to the Slytherin robes, they fell quickly.   
Their hands, both entwined in the others hair, wandered down each face, exploring every inch. Harry explored Malfoy's neck with his lips, his kisses wondering lower. A moan escaped the blonde's unoccupied lips.

"You're better than I imagined."

Harry pulled away. "Only for you."

"Why don't you show me that bruise," Malfoy said, snaking his hands under Harry's shirt. Harry shuddered at the touch of skin on skin. The hands were cold against his body on fire, but they only intensified the burning desire. He let Malfoy pull his shirt over his head, his fingers exploring the newly exposed skin. Their lips met again. Malfoy's kisses now moved to his neck, pausing to nibble at his ear. He continued to his shoulder and onto his chest, pushing The-Boy-Who-Lived against the wall again. He rose to his lips once again, Harry now fighting with Malfoy's shirt. It was quickly removed and added to the pile. They embraced; the feeling of each others skin was orgasmic. Harry felt the swell of Malfoy against his leg, causing him to grow harder still.

"How do you do this to me?" he asked.

"I could ask the same thing," Malfoy sneered.


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

Back at the dormitory, the safe was opened again. The tall shadow stood over the addiction of his best friend, the addiction he wanted to be his. Shaking hands released the needle filled with the translucent poison. The cap fell off when they dropped the syringe onto the reflective table, the point caught his breath. He slowly stripped of his robe, draping it over the nearest chair. The chill of the fall air, seeping through tiny cracks, saturated his newly exposed skin.

He carefully raised the needle to his arm, the veins almost rising to meet the sweet release. He stifled a moan of pain as the point entered his skin. His thumb trembled when he lowered the top, watching the numbers drop lower. _When do I stop?_

The note of panic in his thought dropped the numbers farther, faster. He realized, with shock, that it would take much more will than he had to stop the substance; the feeling was too much to handle. His eyes lost sight of everything but the syringe, all else faded to nothingness. His senses fell toward the only thing keeping him captive. He was deaf with lust for the effects, blind with passion for the feelings he would never have. One last drop…the vial struck zero.

Gently, he removed the needle from his pained skin and dropped it, the clatter never meeting his ears. His world went completely black as his head met the cold, hard floor below him. He could feel nothing.

Harry felt Draco's fingers trickle down his stomach, they gently graced over his bruise. The pain was washed out by the pleasure of skin moving down his body. He felt the cold stone on his back, though it did nothing to cure the burning within. Their lips met again, a soft brush. The kiss rose to rough passion. For the first time, their tongues were left wild to explore. Draco parted Harry's lips and entered first, Harry met him halfway, their tongues searching deeper. They held each other closer, wanting to feel every inch forever. Draco's fingers once again wondered down Harry's chest. They pressed in all the right placed on their way down to his belt. Draco managed to unlock the buckle before he was met with calloused hands.

"Not tonight, Draco," he whispered. "Our time will be up soon."

They both realized how true those words were and unwillingly separated. The pile of shed clothes quickly appeared back on the bodies of their removers. The last button of a robe was complete just as McGonagall burst through the door.

"Mr. Potter," she said, flushed. "We have a problem."

Harry didn't question any further and followed her out of the room in silence. The path they took got familiar as they took a turn towards Gryffindor common room. His heart sunk as two things popped into his head, both equally as bad.

"P-professor…"

"Not now Potter."

They were, in fact, going to the common room. When they entered, the room fell silent as all eyes watched the two climb towards the boys dormitory. Harry began to loose breath, his nerves running faster than ever before, his stomach twisting more violently than the first time he saw Draco. _It's all over. _

"Mr. Potter," she said, stopping in front of his door. "Before you enter, I think you should be prepared for what you see."

"Just let me in," he snapped, realizing what lay behind the door. "Please."

With her back against the wood separating him from the worst possible scenario, she let the door fall open. Harry barely caught himself on the frame, his mouth opened to scream but nothing came out. He felt his stomach convulse and he feared he would be sick. Lying on the floor in front of him was his best friend, his red hair the only indicator needed. Tearing his eyes away from the body below, they fell on the open drawer and empty needle. _No! No…no. _Harry couldn't believe it, he wouldn't…_It couldn't be…_

"No!" he screamed at McGonagall. "No! You're all lying to me! It's just a joke!"

"Potter, please," she said reaching to comfort him.

"NO!" he yelled. "Ron, get up! GET UP!"

"Potter, stop," she said, her voice not nearly strict enough.

"NO YOU STOP!" he ripped. "Make him get up! The joke…joke's over!"

Tears began to fall slowly from his green eyes. "Please…make h-him…get up."

"Mr. Potter," she began for the third time. "Mr. Weasley is unconscious, but we fear he won't pull out of it."

"But he has a chance…"

"Yes."

"Then he'll survive," he said plainly. "I'll help you move him to the infirmary and everything will be fine. He's strong."

"We have Madame Pomfrey on her way."

Harry sank to one knee beside his fallen friend. His hand found Ron's, the chill of it frightened him more than Voldemort. _If you die, I will never forgive myself. _ Harry squeezed the limp hand in his. _Ron you can't leave me. _The tears began again as thoughts of the worst streamed into his mind. The pain of not being with him followed after, his mind quickly blamed it on Draco. _Damn it, damn it, damn it!! _

The arrival of Madame Pomfrey snapped him from his meditation. As quickly as magically possible, Ron was levitated, concealed, and out the door. Harry followed the floating blob, Pomfrey, and McGonagall down the stairs. Before he could leave the common room, a hand grasped his wrist. He turned to face the brown eyes and bushy hair of Hermione.

"Who is it, Harry," she said, tears forming.

"You know who it is," he said. "Come on."

She let the droplets fall and followed him out the door without another word.

Draco watched the raven haired beauty leave the room, the realization of what just happened wouldn't sink in until tomorrow. The thought of past events made him shiver with delight, who knew an enemy could feel so good. _Damn, of all people. _ The image of McGonagall came back to him, her face etched in stone and flushed with red. _Wonder what's wrong? _He brushed his hands off and headed out of the Owlery, down the winding staircase, his mind floating back to Harry's touch. _Damn. _

Making it to the bottom of the stairs, a loud ruckus startled him from his daydream.

"Hey! What's going on here!" he yelled in his 'I'm-a-Slytherin-sixth-year-shut-your-face-and-answer' voice.

A young Gryffindor answered him. "It's Ron Weasley, sir."

Draco paused at the sound of being called sir. "What about him?"

"H-he's…unconscious."

"_What!_"

"No one knows more than that, sir."

Draco felt his Malfoy sneer appear. _Harry must be devastated. _ "I need someone who can tell me more."

"I don't know of anyone else who knows more than I, sir."

"Tough, I want more information…and I pick you to find it!" The words trickled out of his mouth before he realized he was ordering a Gryffindor; and a second year at that.

"B-But…"

"Wait…never mind."

He barely stayed long enough to see the sigh of relief sweep across the boy's face. "Out of my way, damn it!" he shouted.

The sea of humanity parted at the sound of his voice. He quickly swept through the crowd towards the dungeons. _Snape will know what's going on. _

The five made it to the hospital wing in little time. Ron was laid on a bed and the curtains were drawn. Hermione let out a small whimper when his face was revealed. Harry let her head fall to his shoulder, her hand grasp his shoulder. Nothing mattered now, nothing except Ron's health, his life. _Damn. Fuck. Shit. Bloody hell. _The line of obscenities kept coming.

"Harry, Miss Granger..." a motherly voice said.

"Yes," Harry whispered, Hermione simply looked up. Their eyes met Madame Pomfrey's.

"All we can do it wait now," she continued. "I've administered an antioxidant that should search for what's causing Mr. Weasley's condition."

"How long will it take?" Harry asked, Hermione nodded in similar wonder.

"It could take anywhere from a day to a week."

"He doesn't have a week!" Harry retorted.

"I realize this Mr. Potter! But I suggest you let me do my job or he will have no chance of survival."

The silence allowed the words to sink into both Harry and Hermione. The fact that Ron could not survive would devastate both of them, it would eat away at their souls, blacken their hearts until they had nothing left to live for.

"Harry..." Hermione spoke softly. "He j-just can't d-die!"

"I know Hermione," Harry comforted. "I know."

"I love him Harry," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

Harry looked past the tears falling freely from her eyes, he looked deeper than the outside emotions she presents everyday, below that all, he found the truth; he found the love she contained for the body that lie in the bed unconscious. He couldn't let him die, for he feared that if he did, Hermione would go with him.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

It was almost ten-thirty when Madame Pomfry ushered them out of the hospital wing despite the grumbling and worry they exhaled.

"If he wakes, you two will be the first to know," she assured them.

They nodded, Hermione yawning, as they left the infirmary.

"Harry," she said once the door was closed. "What's going to happen?"

He heard her question, so soft and delicate. Hermione had never asked Harry for much, never laid her whole self in his hands. Her eyes showed the fatigue of the days events.

"I don't know."

She looked deep within his eyes. "Thank you, Harry."

He knew exactly what she meant. "I'm sorry."

"Shh," her thin finger met his lips.

The walk back to the dormitory was the beginning of another friendship, starting right where they left off. The momentary joy in their lives was just enough to let them sleep.

Classes continued as planned the next day. No one spoke of Ron, even when Parvati Patil asked about it in Transfiguration.

"I'm sorry Miss Patil," McGonagall spoke firmly. "That is not my information to discuss."

Harry was very thankful McGonagall took privacy issues seriously, for he doubted he could handle the event rehashed. Something told him that was another reason the event wouldn't be discussed.

He and Hermione had decided to take shifts at in the hospital wing, seeing as Harry still had detention. Though he figured McGonagall would surely let him off, he gathered the more time he spent away from Ron the more composed he would stay. Besides, he wanted to see Draco again. Just the thought of the blonde brought a small happiness to him; he knew his eyes lit up at the mention of his name.

"Good evening, Gentlemen," McGonagall greeted.

"Evening Professor," they both responded.

"Tonight, I fear, the usual detention shall ensue," she stated. "The awards in the trophy room are due for their usual polish. I offered you up to do the job."

Harry's heart skipped at the thought of being alone in the trophy room with Draco. His imagination took him away from the fate that lay in the infirmary.

"Mr. Filtch will escort you there and will return you when your time is up."

They rose in sync as Filtch appeared at the door.

"Gentlemen…" he invited.

The trophy room was dark when they arrived. Filtch lit the few candles found in the room, leaving a hazy glow about.

"I want every trophy shined to perfection…" he growled.

They waited for him to leave before speaking again.

"Damn this cleaning," Draco said, breaking the silence.

"It's better than Filtch's alternative…hanging from our ankles in the dungeons."

Draco managed a snicker. "That could be hot."

Harry snapped his head to look at the seductive blonde. "Only in your dreams."

"If you wish hard enough, dreams come true."

"Not tonight," Harry said, tossing him a cloth.

"Detention's hell."

They began working with a laugh.

Hermione arrived in the Hospital wing to find it oddly empty. Ron was in the same bed, the curtains still drawn around him. She felt the wave of sadness overwhelm her; the thought of losing him made the ocean of pain a harsh reality. She managed to make it to his bed. A chair was placed at its side. _Harry must not have put it back._ She sat and took Ron's hand in her's. The chill of it frightened her. She had never experienced death, the cold slap in the face, the loss of a part of your heart. She never wanted to feel it. Ron meant more to her than anyone ever had. Harry was her best friend, but she loved Ron.

She looked to his face, expressionless and cold. Stubble was just beginning to peak out of his chin. Her heart longed to see his eyes again, to see him smile. Her heart longed to tell him how she felt, though she feared she never could. A single tear fell from her eye; it landed on Ron's hand, covering hers. A whimper escaped her lips as a cascade of tears followed the leader. _Ronald Weasley, I can't lose you. _ She released his hand and quickly wiped away the tears.

"I won't cry any more," she promised no one in particular.

Again she took up his hand, hoping to find answers in its touch, nothing but sadness responded.

"I love you," she whispered to his hand. "And I fear I always will."

Letting her head fall to the bed, Hermione cried.

Harry and Draco unconsciously sped through their task, finishing in no time at all. Harry was left with the presence of Draco and the thought of Ron, sadness overtaking his body.

"I can't let him die, damn it," he whispered, thinking aloud.

"Who?"

Harry looked to the misty grey eyes of his once mortal enemy; the fear of showing weakness no longer existed.

"Ron," he said tossing the towel his was holding.

Draco caught his tongue before he blurted 'The Weasel'. He watched Harry slide down the wall and bury his face in his hands. He could feel the pain of the fragile body in the corner. His heart sank at the sight.

"W-What happened?"

Harry stayed silent; he never wanted to talk about it to anyone. He kept his face buried, waiting for Draco to make the first move. The blonde stepped towards him, dropping to one knee when Harry was close enough to touch.

Draco's hand slid up his arm, sending a warm passion through his body.

"I'm here to take all the pain away…" he said seductively.

Harry couldn't resist looking up into those eyes once again. They captured him with such ease.

"Let me take all the pain away, Harry."

They locked lips, the passion of before growing slowly. Harry lowered his knees, exposing his chest, Draco effortlessly slipped between them, pressing their bodies together. Their tongues explored wildly, frantically. Draco rose above Harry, dominating him, his hands pressed against the wall beside the raven's head. Harry had to look up to meet the Slytherin.

Almost instantly, Harry began to loosen the blonde's belt. He fumbled with the buckle, finally releasing it. It was the first casualty of the night. Draco's lips were left exposed as Harry traveled down his neck.

"Harry…" he began, breathing in beat with his kisses.

Harry's hands wound their way up the sides of Draco and onto his neck, one finger entwined in hair. With a force unexpected, Harry pushed him to the floor; the raven now on top, his knees on either side of the blonde's waist. They met lips once again, Harry's hands holding his body from Draco's. Delicate fingers found the buttons of his robes and made quick work of them. _Experienced no doubt. _Harry shed his robe and returned to Draco's lips. His fingers ran through the already messy raven hair and caressed his neck, pressing him closer. Their lips parted.

"Let me carry your pain, Harry."

Draco rolled Harry over. Now straddling his waist, Harry's belt joined the deceased. Warm fingers traced his stomach, pulling his shirt over his head, they explored every inch of pale, chiselled skin. Draco's kisses wondered from lips to neck to chest where they explored the recently exposed. His tongue flicked in and out Harry's navel, it followed the hairline to the edge of his pants. Draco's fingers slid down his sides and played with the single button. Before releasing it, he traveled back up his body, reaching his lips again.

"Are you ready for this?" he whispered.

Harry slid his icy fingers under Draco's shirt, caressing his back. He continued in removing his robe and shirt as quickly as possible. His fingers then moved to his chest, exploring it once again. The thought of what lie beneath the zipper only worsened his want for Draco. The flicker in his eyes sent Draco plunging, Harry's pants loosened. Draco's stomach twisted as his imagination ran wild. What lie beneath was barely a mystery.

Harry's back was flat on the trophy room floor, the dim lighting showing only Draco's eyes. He watched as the blonde slipped lower down his legs. One at a time, Harry's shoes were released, his socks soon after. Two more thumps, Harry guessed, meant Draco was also barefoot. Straddling his waist again, Harry felt what he was doing to Draco, the swell unable to be hidden any longer. Harry's fingers instinctively reached for the waist of Draco's pants and unfastened them.

Draco's skin covered Harry as their lips met again, the passion instantly there. Harry slowly switched roles with the Slytherin, Draco's back now flat against the stone. Harry moved to his neck and let his hand trickle down his rock solid stomach, the other stayed entwined in hair. His fingers played with his bellybutton and crossed the point of no return. He encompassed the whole of the once hidden swell. Draco's lips formed silent pleasure and a whispered moan escaped. Just at the sight of his response, Harry felt as thought he could burst. His hand instinctively began moving, slowly and to an inner rhythm, up and down along Draco's length. The response he received sent him further over the edge. Draco's moans led Harry's kisses lower, his motion harder and faster.

Suddenly, Harry quickly covered Draco's moans with his free hand. A bang followed by a snicker and a ghostly swish graced both ears. The fear that flickered through Draco's eyes matched what Harry felt in the pit of his stomach. Harry released Draco and pulled him to sitting. Grabbing their shed items, they scuttled towards the darkest corner of the trophy room as Peeves entered his usual haunt.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

Huddled in the corner, Harry felt his hand tremble against Draco's bare chest, the sign immediately registering in his mind. _Not a good time, damn it! _ Draco, without thinking, cradled the shaking hand in his. The caring motion calmed it for only a moment. Harry felt as if his blood was running dry. He closed his eyes and took in deep breaths as quietly as possible; they too shook with the withdrawal.

Peeves wondered around the room, transparent and glowing. He stuck his too-long nose in every corner but theirs to Harry's pleasure. Knocking over a few awards and trophies, he headed for the door. Before he exited completely, Draco let out a sigh of relief. The ghostly form of a head snapped in their direction, slowly moving closer. _Damn him! _ Only a few inches closer and Peeves would have surly seen them.

"Peeeeeeves…" a haunting voice echoed. "Oh Peeeeeeeeeves."

The two watched the poltergeist's eyes widen in shock at the Bloody Barons words.

_Turn around. _The huddled couple thought.

Another translucent figure stuck his head in the room. Peeves practically screamed at the sight.

"Peeeeeves has been bad…again," the Bloody Baron said.

Peeves shot through the nearest wall setting the Slytherin Ghost on a wild goose hunt; somehow Harry figured Peeves would be found.

"Harry," Draco whispered. "Why are you shaking?"

"Scared shitless, what do you think?" Harry lied. He pulled his hand away from the blonde's and moved to dress himself. He had difficulty buttoning his robe and dropped his shoe more than once.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Draco asked, dressing too.

"Yes, damn it," he said finally getting his robe buttoned.

Draco rose from Harry's side just as Filtch walked in.

"Come on kiddies, your work here is done."

They were escorted back to McGonagall's room and dismissed.

Harry knew he was due at the hospital wing in less than five minutes, but he had to make a pit stop. Running at little less than a sprint, he made it to his dormitory and locked the door.

"Alohamora."

His life-support appeared before his eyes. _It's been almost three days since my last. _ He picked up a syringe and wasted no time tying the tourniquet on. The pain of the needle and the ecstasy of the drug entering his system silenced the shaking almost instantly. He let a small sigh of relaxation escape before returning to reality. He quickly capped the needle and shoved the half empty syringe back in the drawer. Sweeping out the door, he made it to the infirmary in no time at all.

"Sorry I'm late Her—"

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight he walked into. In a far corner of the wing lie the crumpled Hermione, her hands were covering her face, her body shaking with tears. Madame Pomfry was at Ron's side, the curtains drawn as not to expose his condition.

Harry forced himself to breathe and walk towards Hermione. When she looked up, their eyes met and the message was crystal clear. Harry's legs would support him no longer and his eyes exposed oceans of emotion he wished he never had. He crawled as best he could to Hermione, who was doing the same thing, her face red with tears. Their arms wrapped around each other in a death grip, they never wanted to let go.

"Please…t-tell me….its n-not what…" Harry managed to whisper.

Hermione simply cried into his shoulder, the situation leaving her mute. He held her close, rubbing her back as best he could, tears falling freely from his dulled eyes. A shadow, tall and thin, passed over the crumpled pair. The infirmary door creaked open again. A tiny scream identified Ginny Weasley.

"No!" she yelled, her feet squabbling at nothing. Fred and George barely had the strength to hold her back from the curtained bed, their faces frozen in shock. Ginny fell to her knees. Fred kneeled at her side, her head falling into his lap. She shook with the same tears as Hermione.

Harry's heart sank at the sight of the Weasley's. George, standing tall holding back his tears that so willed to fall. Fred sat strong at his feet, only a few streaks of wet marred his face, his hand rhythmically stroking red hair. Ginny, curled into her brother's lap, releasing all sorrow.

Hermione's tears continued to fall, her face curled into Harry's right shoulder, her hand clasped on his left. Harry was rocking gently, eyes closed, tears falling freely into Hermione's hair. Even the presence of Dumbledore, if not just his shadow, provided any relief from the unspoken sorrow that filled the hospital wing.

The funeral was a week later. Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny as well as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charley, and even Percy were there. Dumbledore did the service. McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid, and Lupin were all there as well. It was a small and private service. A silent rain fell atop the heads of the mourning. Mist rose from the sacred ground, the trees swaying to death. Not an eye was dry, including Dumbledore. Many a time Mrs. Weasley fell to the ground, only to be pulled up by her husband, wobbly himself at times. Hermione was the first to walk towards the coffin to give her last regards.

A single red rose fell from her hand. She forced her voice to work.

"Ronald Weasley," she began slowly. "You were…more than any friend could ask for," her voice wavered.

She paused to collect her composure. "Together, we shared times of laughter, so far away now. We shared times of hatred, distant forever. We shared…times of sorrow, so miniscule to now. Yet…somehow I never found…never found the t-time to share with you my l-love. If I could only change that one thing, Ron…if I could have only told you how m-much I l-loved you…" She managed to whisper the last words. Hermione held back the wall of tears no longer. She fell to the soggy ground and cried with no remorse.

Harry stepped up next, only moving towards the coffin when he knew his legs would support him. He was given the honour of placing Ron's wand to rest. Gently kneeling to the tomb holding his best friend, he placed the box holding the wand on a small altar. He opened the wooden case and removed the wand. A tingle crawled up his arm; Ron's essence would forever be with him. Dumbledore lit a small fire amidst the rain. Harry began his last words.

"Ron was more than anyone could ever wish for," he stated, barely above a whisper. "I didn't ask for his friendship, I didn't ask for his unwavering support. He was always the gift…the gift I didn't deserve."

He lit the tip of the wand on fire.

"He stood by me through smiles and laughter. Through pain and danger. Through life and d-death."

All attending watched the wand burn in Harry's hand.

"He was the perfect friend, n-never to be forgotten," he paused. "We always thought I would be the first…" he let his head drop. "We always planned on that being the way it would fall."

The flame inched closer to his wet skin. Harry let the wood fall into the eternal fire.

"But life never works out the way you plan," Harry's sadness finally being washed away by anger. "It just keeps taking things you need away from you. Things it can never give back," his voice shook with hate. "But we aren't here to think of all those things. This is a time to remember the one thing that never should have been taken, never should have been put in that situation. We will never forget you, Ronald Weasley."

He managed to rise to his feet and walk away from the body of his fallen friend. He couldn't bear to look into anyone's eyes but felt them all flicker on his ruined body. He turned to face the only life, the flame. It danced with happiness in a space of cold death, Ron's soul burning within its core.


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX – What a Sweet Addiction. **

School life all but halted. Sorrow-filled students walked the halls, silence lacing their lips. Harry stayed in his dormitory for weeks, staring at the empty bed to his left, hoping that suddenly Ron would walk through the door with that smile he wished to see one last time. He managed to go through at least half of his stash; it was the food sustaining him, his life support. Every memory brought another tear to his permanently red-rimed eyes. Every tear reminded him of his guilt. He couldn't imagine Hermione's situation to be any better, Neville had relayed she wasn't in any of her classes.

Facing the window, Harry watched the snow fall. Once a pleasurable experience, it did nothing to raise his mood. Through blind eyes Harry saw what looked like the biggest snowflake he had ever seen, the giant blob sat perched on his windowsill.

Rising from his bed for the first time that day, Harry opened the window to reveal Hedwig. She landed gracefully on his arm and nuzzled his neck. Harry closed his eyes and revelled in the warmth, more tears slipped from his tired eyes. Blindly, he walked back to his bed, setting Hedwig down before falling onto it. His hand reached for her head and stroked the snowy white plumage.

"Hedwig, what am I going to do," he whispered.

She rubbed against his palm like she understood everything.

Draco, like every other student, knew what happened and was surprised at the sadness that filled his usually cold heart. _Potter's warmed me up. _The thought of Harry made his stomach drop, Ron was his best friend. _God he must be a bloody mess. _He knew he couldn't just walk into the Gryffindor common room and demand to see him, he had to be subtle. _Time for a test. _

Harry heard the tap on the door but didn't respond, if they were supposed to be in the room, they didn't need to knock, anyone else shouldn't be near him. They knocked again. Hedwig ruffled her feathers, interrupting Harry's rhythm. It was her way of saying 'Get up'. They knocked for a third time. Harry looked to the door and watched a small piece of white paper slide under it. He rolled out of bed and reached for the note addressed to him, the handwriting alien to his eyes.

_Harry,_

_There are no words I can say to make this any easier on you. I can only give you the option to let me take all the pain away. I realize your loss can never be replaced, and would never think of trying. I want to love you Harry. I know you can manage to get away without being seen. _

_D -_

Harry read the letter again to make sure he read it correctly. He realized the words weren't painful and he knew Draco was right. He threw on the Invisibility cloak and slipped out of the common room.

_The note didn't give a location. _Harry knew he didn't have to. Around the final turn, he met the stone-grey eyes of his release. Draco felt his presence and turned down the closest hall. Quickly following him, Harry watched a door appear in the darkened wall. _The Room of Necessity. _His thoughts immediately flowed to the time he, Ron, and Hermione set up a Defence Class in that very room, it was only two years ago. Harry removed the cloak as he entered the room.

"Harry…"

He knew Draco's gasp was at his appearance; ragged hair, bloodshot eyes, and sickeningly pale.

The windowless room was lit by the soft glow of hundreds of candles. Overstuffed chairs stood in the corner and a bed rested against the far wall. Draco watched his partner's eyes flick from one piece to another. His steps were silent on the wooden floor as he made his way towards the broken soul. The blonde's hand reached for his tear stained cheek. His lips gently brushed Harry's, testing the waters.

"Just gentle," he whispered on Harry's lips.

Harry returned the light kiss. Draco's hands wound around his untidy hair and down his back, letting a kiss last longer. Harry felt himself weaken into the arms of the Slytherin.

"Let me ease the pain," he whispered again, Draco's breath hot on Harry's neck.

Harry released Draco's robes as he kicked off his shoes. Draco returned the favour. Their lips brushed again, becoming more intimate.

Draco led him to the bed, decorated with many pillows. Embracing again in a kiss, Harry fell to its softness. Draco joined him as he crawled for the headboard, their lips meeting again. Harry let his be parted for the Slytherin to explore, the gentle kisses warming his soul again. Delicate hands slipped under his shirt exploring his new found thinness. Draco's lips moved to his neck, gently brushing against his skin. Harry sighed with release, with pleasure. His leg tangled with one of Draco's. The two shirts soon found the floor.

Harry ran his fingers along Draco's rock solid stomach, chills ran his spine. The Slytherin's kisses stayed gentle and delicate, just like he promised. Draco slid the belt from Harry's waist and added it to the pile. Harry effortlessly returned the favour. His back arched against the blonde's riveting body.

"I can give you everything you want," he seductively spoke in Harry's ear. "I can give you everything you need."

Harry moaned as Draco's hand slipped behind his waist, pulling him closer to the blonde's body. With the other, Draco pulled their lips together. He pushed against the frail body of his partner and received a shove back, so their rhythm began.

Harry stirred first, a warm hand rested against his bare skin. When he turned to face the hand's owner, it slipped low around his hips causing him to realize he was naked. Draco's mouth hung slightly open against a large pillow. Harry couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss, he was returned warmly. The hand pulled him closer, causing their legs to tangle, confirming Draco was also naked. Another kiss, longer, was shared between the sleeping lovers.

"What a sweet addiction you are," Draco whispered, licking his lips.

Harry's fingers leapt to a stray hair covering the blonde's eyes. Draco cupped the hand and kissed its palm before brushing lips with its owner. Harry managed a smile for the first time in three weeks.


	10. Chapter X

**Chapter X**

Hermione pulled her head from her pillow, wiping her tear-stricken eyes with the back of her hand. She rolled to her back, her fuzzy eyes focusing on the ceiling. She let her head roll to the side, her eyes now looking onto the snow laced grounds. Like Harry, the snow did nothing to raise her mood; it only reminded her of snowball fights and snow angels. The morning sun glistened off the white blanket. She peaked out of her half-open bed curtains to check the room. All the other curtains were open and no one was there. She sighed and rolled back into bed.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She could hear herself breathing, could feel her heart beating. Her mother's voice echoed in her blank mind. _Hermione darling, life has to move on. I lost my sister at your age. I understand your pain, but you can't sulk for the rest of your life…_ She cut her off. Another sprinkle of tears escaped her eyes; she didn't bother to wipe them away.

Three weeks of sitting on her bed, thinking of every moment, every joke, every day she had shared with Ron had reduced Hermione to little more than alive. Her cheeks were raw from wiping away the tears, her eyes puffy from the fallen drops. Her nose red from wiping, her lips dry and cracked from licking. Shaking hands fell to her sides, her waist getting thinner by the days. Lavender had brought her food a few days past, but it had been almost three since. She knew her legs would barely support her, she hadn't stood for weeks. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck, its curls flattened by sleep and sorrow.

The thought of her condition made her realize what she had become; it made her situation finally real. Pulling herself to sitting position, she let her bare feet dangle over the bed; her toes barely touched the cold stone floor. She pushed her weight onto her feet and wobbled, grabbing for a post of her bed to steady her. There on her dresser lay her wand. Feeling steady, she let go of the pole. She slowly moved towards the bureau, her feet jerkily stepping one in front of the other. When she felt the wood touch her palm, she picked it up. A mirror caught her face in its reflection, confirming her situation farther. Her decision was final.

Slipping from the bed, Harry dressed in silence. Draco moaned and did the same on the other side. When they were fully clothed, Draco broke the silence. He found Harry's lips once again and they shared a lingering kiss.

"Why do you have to go," he asked.

"You're not the only one in my life," Harry whispered back, looking to the floor.

Draco pushed his chin up to lock eyes with the blinding green.

"And I will never try to be."

They kissed once again before Harry wrapped himself in the cloak and left for the common room. Draco watched the door open and close before snickering. _I'll give you an A on that exam, Mr. Potter. _

With luck, Neville was entering at the time he arrived at the Fat Lady. Harry slipped into the common room unseen. He placed one foot on the stairs to his dormitory when the first sounds of a scream met his ears; he knew who it belonged to before it formed. Dropping the cloak at the foot of the stairs he sprinted up the girls' stairs, trying to outrun the defence mechanism. The scream intensified, silencing the whole common room. The stairs sensed his presence just as he was in distance of the top. Throwing his body forward, he grasped the top of the landing. With his new found strength, he pulled himself onto the girls landing. The scream still graced his ears; he took no time to recover. He ran towards it, bursting through the door where it's heart lie.

A flash of light blinded Harry for vital seconds. When the room was back to normal lighting, a crumpled figure lay at the foot of her bed. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he ran towards her and fell to her side. He took the bushy brown hair in his lap and shook her.

"Wake up Hermione," he said, stern and forceful. "You can't leave me!"

He looked around the room for anything indicating life; his eyes lingered on the wand limply held in her hand. Harry wiped the tears of pain from her raw cheeks and took her wilted body in his.

"Not again," he whispered. "Please no…"

He closed his eyes, letting the first tears of the day fall into her hair.

Shuffling feet met his ears and a gasp identified Professor McGonagall.

"H-Harry…it c-can't be…"

He didn't respond, for he couldn't believe it either. He sat there, rocking back and forth with Hermione's body in his arms, the tears identifying the tragedy. McGonagall's presence could be felt on the other side of the lost. Harry heard her breath shorten, tears surely falling from her eyes. She took one of Hermione's hands in her's. Many feet, pattering along the halls, stopped in front of the door, high pitched gasps and screams followed by shocked tears identified the students. None of them entered the room. In a moment of sickening silence, the morning sun was blocked from the sky.

_Good-bye. _

Another wave of sadness and mourning washed over the school. Classes were cancelled and many students went home early for holiday break. Harry, of course, stayed as well as his roommates, Neville and Dean. Seamus, as well as the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team stayed as well. Hermione's roommates, Lavender and Parvati Patil left later on in the week. Few Slytherins graced the halls; however Draco was one of them.

Everyone in Gryffindor house knew Ron but everyone in Hogwarts knew Hermione. The effect of her death was three times greater than Ron's. Harry felt the sadness in every corner; the air thick with decease. It pained him to walk through the halls knowing he had once been joined by the fallen. He passed old haunts and classrooms once filled with learning and laughter, now empty with loss. It was as if he was dead himself for he felt nothing. He was simply numb to the pain. No tears fell from his weary eyes; no whimpers of sadness fell from his lips. He merely walked with his hands in his pockets, eyes to the floor.

Draco lounged around the empty common room, moving from couch to couch. His fingers and toes tapped to an inner nervousness he had acquired since the mudblood's death. His breath caught every time the door swung open. He feared he was taking to long. _Tonight. _

Harry managed to sit at the Gryffindor table and eat dinner that night. As unusual as it seemed, the whole Great Hall was silent. The teachers ate in silent solitude; the death's affecting them as well. Harry looked across the room, the Ravenclaw table almost completely empty, only two young third years and a seventh year ate tonight. The Hufflepuff table was slightly fuller; Justin Finch-Fletchley and a few other sixth years ate in silence as well as a few unknowing first years. At the far end, the Slytherin table was the sparsest of all. Draco sat at the head, as always, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry was joined by the Quidditch team and Neville tonight. Dean and Seamus hadn't arrived.

Draco kept flicking his eyes Harry's way, hoping to make contact. When he scanned the Slytherin table, their eyes met, a silent understanding made. Harry finished his meagre plate and left the Great Hall, all eyes following his withered figure.

Finding the Room of Necessity with ease, Harry slipped in and sat on the bed. He kicked off his shoes and curled into a ball, laying his head on one of the many pillows. His mind was left to wonder through times of laughter, fear, strength, and weakness. At the end of memory lane, Harry realized just how alone he was, and how vulnerable that made him.

Draco arrived later on in the night, as their eye-lock had assumed.

"Sorry," he began. "It took forever to find the place."

Harry responded with silence.

Draco moved towards Harry's side of the bed and knelt in front of him. He took his hand and pulled him to sitting. Harry reluctantly looked into his eyes and was shocked to see fear…but then it was gone. Draco kissed his hand and Harry fell to the floor in front if him, his face buried in the Slytherin's chest. Draco ran firm fingers through the messy raven hair like so many times before. Down around his neck his fingers traveled, Harry's head still on his chest.

"Let me be your cloak," he whispered, unbuttoning his robes.

Harry didn't object them falling to the floor, he kept his eyes closed. Draco tossed the shed item far from the pair, when the bundle hit the floor the tip of Harry's wand peaked out of a crease. He was halfway there.

Draco lifted Harry's chin to look into his eyes but he didn't bite, his green flames stayed focused at the ground. He simply leaned further into Draco's unwavering frame. He let his hands wander to Harry's back, a few fingers slipped up his shirt. Harry winced at the chill of the blonde's skin on his.

"Good bye Harry," Draco whispered in his ear.

The Slytherin turned Harry so that his back was against his chest, his arm flung around the Gryffindor's neck. Harry clawed for the arm cutting off his air supply coming in contact with a thin piece of string tied around the wrist of his strangler. Instantly he felt the tug around his navel.


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

In a whirl of color, Harry and Draco were frozen in time. When his knees hit solid ground again, Harry felt the grip on his throat loosen only to be replaced with a cold punch. Harry felt his face hit the cold, wet ground. He was given no time to feel the pain before his right arm was twisted high on his back and his head was ripped from the ground by his hair. When he opened his eyes the sight sent lightning across his forehead, his scar aflame. He was at the mercy of his most famous enemy.

"Welcome back Harry," the snakelike voice said, poisoning his ears. "You're just in time."

Two figures cloaked in darkness bound his hands roughly behind his back; Draco pulled him to his feet and shoved him forward sending him toppling towards Lord Voldemort. He was on his knees once again, breathing heavily. He wanted to scream as Voldemort stepped down off his 'throne', his head would surely split. The sneer of his enemy did nothing to reassure him.

"Now I shall call them all," he hissed, coming closer still. "And they shall witness my victory."

One bone-thin finger stretched towards Harry's face, the pain worsening with every inch. He tried to pull away from its fate but couldn't escape it. The skin of Voldemort brushed his own, Harry could do nothing but writhe in pain and agony.

"Come Wormtail," he heard a distant voice call, the pain diminishing slowly.

Another scream pierced the night as Lord Voldemort called his most loyal followers.

Snape dropped his fork in the thick silence of the Great Hall, every eye turned towards him. He lowered his arm under the table, the pain growing the longer he sat there. Gripping the skull tattooed on his skin he slowly looked to Dumbledore in the center of the table, pain lacing his eyes. He received a single nod and with a sweep of his cloak, Snape was gone.

Harry had fallen over, loosing his glasses. He could only see darkly clad figures arriving with a pop of air of a whoosh of a cloak. The rope around his hands was digging deeper into his skin as he tried desperately to rise to his knees again. Voldemort stayed silent and distant to Harry's pleasure, yet the Death Eaters' hushed whispers were more than he could stand. Craning his neck, he searched for the one who betrayed him. Instead he spotted the one who was on his side. Looming under a tree, far behind the staring crowd stood Professor Snape. Their eyes met, terror shared between the two.

"Welcome home my fellow supporters," the looming voice of Voldemort said as he stood, arms welcoming.

The circle around Harry shortened, indicating a widespread bow.

"Rise up fools," he spat. "Tonight is a night of celebration not of tribute to _me_."

Harry felt the pain shoot up his spine and through his scar as every eye was on him.

"Pick him up."

Strong hands wrapped around Harry's rope cut wrists and entwined their fingers through his hair, helping him to first his knees then his feet.

"Untie him," he hissed.

The ropes were dropped from his wrists, wasting no time Harry grabbed for where his wand should be only to come to the realization that he was not wearing his robes. _Fucking bastard. _

"Lost your wand?" Voldemort sneered. The crowd laughed at his helplessness.

Voldemort addressed the Death Eaters.

"Tonight," he began. "Is the last night of suffering. Tonight is the last night of pain," his voice hissed. Harry felt the words burn inside of his bones.

Cheers erupted. The strong hands returned, grabbing the nape of Harry's shirt. They pulled him closer to the pain, closer to his final enemy. The fuzzy outline of Voldemort came into clearer view with yet another step closer. The hands finally threw him at his feet, Harry's body hovering over Voldemort's mud covered boots.

"Kiss my feet boy," he hissed for only Harry to hear.

Before he could react, Voldemort's foot cleared the ground and planted itself into Harry's stomach, sending him back to where he began, flat on his back. He instantly curled into a tight ball amid the rising laughter. The pain of the hit spread throughout his body. It was only the beginning.

"Crucio," a booming voice echoed into Harry's head.

Pain, splintering itself into his every vein, wracked his body with convulsions. Harry could not contain his screams. Time seemed to slow as Harry shook in pain, though it only lasted for seconds.

"Do you still want to live, Harry?" the snake asked. "Do you want more pain?"

Still gathering his breath, Harry didn't answer. He was soon washed in agony again. The Death Eaters laughed and cheered their Lord on as Harry watched his life slip away. Seconds passed again as the curse was lifted.

"Have you had enough Harry?"

Sickening himself, Harry felt his head nod to Voldemort's death invitation.

"Will you die, huddled against the ground, withered and beaten, Harry, or will you rise to the occasion, stand strong…like your father…"

Harry's world crashed around him as Voldemort taunted him, lashed him with memories only to weaken him…

His thoughts were erased with another wave of anguish, this one lasting the longest. Harry's hearing failed him and his sight was first blurred with tears that stung.

"Why do you keep torturing him Lord?" a voice from the shadows shouted.

Voldemort released the spell in search for the one who questioned him. Harry relaxed, breathing hard and heavy, clutching his stomach.

"Who is it," Voldemort said. "That questions me?"

"It is I," Snape said, bowing as his appeared from the shadows.

"You…" he said, knocking Snape over with a punch. "Disgrace."

Snape rose to hands and knees only to be knocked down again with pain in his stomach, Voldemort's shoe sure to have made an impression.

"Don't try to save your precious student, Severus," Voldemort hissed. "I know you better than to let Dumbledore soften you up!"

Snape rose again to his hands and knees.

"Help him up boys."

The two Death Eaters closest to the fallen teacher pulled him up by his shoulders to reveal a bloody nose. One twisted his arm high on his back the other kicked his knees out, moving them forward, following Lord Voldemort.

"Welcome to the circle, Severus," he hissed in the broken teacher's ear. "There looks to be an added death on my list of things to do tonight," he announced to the crowd.

The pair threw Snape next to Harry who still rolled in the mud, recovering.

"One of our own…" he said locking eyes with Snape.

Many of the surrounding Death Eaters spit at the sight of Snape, cowering next to their mortal enemy, protecting him.

"You have no friends here, Severus."

Harry watched as Snape fell into convolutions, weakened screams laced his ears, the shock of the pain he heard in Snape's cries crumbled away at his soul. Snape grabbed for Harry's hand, he gladly let him find it. For all the times Snape had discouraged him or knocked points from him for stupidity's sake, Harry couldn't imagine anyone deserving their fate. Snape's hand on his loosened as the spell was lifted. Harry kept his palm against his teacher's as he recovered from the pain he had endured.

"Who should I kill first…?" Voldemort pondered aloud.

The crowd chanted their choice, a strong lean towards Harry. He felt his stomach drop as he realized his last moments were coming faster.

Snape's hand against Harry's suddenly went ridged and his face contorted in concentration.

_Do you have your wand with you Severus? _

The teacher's head moved in a jagged nod, he was fighting the curse.

_Show me. _

_N-no…_

_Show me. _

_N-AHHHHHHHH!_

Snape's screams echoed in the silent field.

_Show me. _

Slowly, Snape's hand left Harry's. His fingers battled against his 'masters' will but eventually pulled out his wand.

_Good. Now kill him. _


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter XII**

Harry watched his teacher's eyes go from fighting to fearing. Snape rose slowly to his knees and then teetered on his feet before facing Harry, their eyes locking. Snape raised his wand, its tip pointing directly at Harry's heart.

"No Professor," Harry pleaded quietly. "Don't do it…"

Snape's face contorted in concentration, his wand hand shook with determination.

_I will n-not kill him._

_Do it. _

_N-NO! _

_Kill him. _

Snape's fingers loosened around his wand, still pointed at Harry's chest.

"Drop it Professor," Harry spoke repeatedly. "Drop it."

_Do not drop the wand Severus. _

_Y-you do not c-c-contr-rol me!_

_Kill him…now. _

_No._

Snape released a moan of pain and concentration, the wand slipped from his fingers before he fell to his knees. Harry left nothing to chance. He squabbled to reach the wand before anyone else.

"GRAB HIM!" Voldemort's voice boomed over the crowd.

Snape rolled away from the lost wand, not giving himself the chance to grab it again. His screams were shadowed by the warrior cries of the surrounding Death Eaters. Harry was in distance to touch it…

A heavy something fell onto his legs, flattening him. He rolled to his back, facing his attacker. His eyes locked with the chilling-grey of the Slytherin who betrayed him.

"You…," he gasped.

Draco grinned at the disgust that framed Harry's face.

"You can never trust a snake," he spat.

Harry kicked with all his strength. The blonde moaned in pain, clutching his stomach were he struck. Harry stumbled to his feet and reached the wand, the tingle of Snape's essence almost caused him to drop it. Before he could think of what to do with it, Draco pounced again, the wand skewing from Harry's hand.

"I had been planning this moment for months," Draco breathed into his ear. "There is nothing you will do to ruin it."

Harry, pinned on his stomach, felt Malfoy punch him in the side of his face.

"Nothing you _can _do…"

Draco lifted the now bleeding Potter to his feet by only his hair, Harry gripping his hand.

"Bastard," he spit.

"Keep saying that and you can have my father on your back too."

Draco punched him again, square in the gut. He let The-Boy-Who-Lived fall to the ground and curl into a ball, clutching the point of impact.

Snape continued to roll in pain next to the newly fallen Harry.

_Pick up the wand and finish him. _

"I hope you die."

"You'll wish you could keep your mouth shut, Severus," the Dark Lord spat, rising again from his 'throne' to descend upon the teacher.

Snape, still on the ground, reached for his wand and felt its wood grace his palm. The spell had been lifted. He rose quickly to his feet and stood, strong and determined, his wand pointed at the Dark Lord.

"You dare to challenge me, Severus?"

"I've challenged you for a long time," he spat. "_My Lord._"

"There are so many things _worse_ than death," he hissed. "You should know that by now."

"I don't expect to die."

The laughter that filled the night air drenched Harry to the bone; he cringed at the sound of joy in something so evil. Draco was offered the opportunity to let loose another punch. Harry felt the blonde's knuckles crush into his cheek.

"Severus," Voldemort hissed. "At the ready."

Snape bent at the waist, never letting his eyes leave the slits of his 'master'. Voldemort did the same.

"Now," the Dark Lord continued. "We duel."

"Furnunculus!"

"Impedimus!"

Voldemort's spell struck Snape in the arm, causing boils to appear instantly. Snape's spell seemed to do nothing.

"Crucio!"

Snape's knees hit the ground, he shouts of pain echoed in the silenced circle. He clutched his cursed arm; the agony of the boils was intensified by the Cruciatus curse.

"No one can defeat me, my servant…," Voldemort hissed.

Harry continued a struggle with Draco, still on top. Harry could feel his black eye and broken nose, his own blood dripped onto his lips. Draco struck again before Harry released a hand. He grasped the blond hair of his enemy and pulled with all the strength he could muster in his position. Draco fell to the side just enough for the Gryffindor to slide from beneath him. The Slytherin lunged at him before Harry could think straight. They toppled to the ground again, Harry making sure to get the advantage.

Voldemort lifted the Cruciatus curse, letting Snape breath for only seconds. The Dark Lord pulled the crumpled teacher from the ground by his soiled robes.

"You should be thankful I'm touching you."

In response, Snape spit on his shoes. "You don't deserve to."

"Ahhhh!" Voldemort screamed as he threw the spy backwards into the nearest tree, his figure crumpled at the base.

Harry ducked as a darkened figure flew over him and his quarrel, Draco took a swing at him, missing narrowly. Harry watched as the body of Snape crumpled to the muddy ground. _Shit. _Draco struck the second time. He shoved Harry to the ground; the raven-haired's back flat against the mud.

"That's enough Draco," a snake-like voice hissed from above. "I'll take him from here."

"As you wish My Lord."

The weight on top of him lifted as Draco recoiled. Harry could feel his scar splintering deeper into his skull.

"I don't even have to spell you to make you twitch…"

Voldemort's touch reverberated with Harry's screams; The-Boy-Who-Lived could do nothing but writhe under the powerful touch of his royal enemy.

"And now," he whispered to the crying boy. "I'll kill you myself."

Cheers filled the night as Harry's eyes focused on the flaming wood in Voldemort's left hand. The feel of its power so close to his skin made him squabble like an infant to get away from it. More laughter graced his ears.

"At least you put up _some _kind of fight…unlike your father."

"H-How dare y-you…"

"Your mother isn't here to die for you again…"

Harry's heart sank as, once again, he realized the truth of the matter. All feeling left his body as the wand waved freely in front of his face.

Voldemort threw his fragile form against the foot of his 'throne', Harry's head cracked against the stone. He could feel his rich red life drip into the mud.

"Good bye," Lord Voldemort spoke. "Harry Potter."

Snape managed to steady himself against the tree as he witnessed what he was sent here to stop.

"No!" he wailed as Voldemort's lips formed the unstoppable curse.

Snape forgot all pain as he ran for the Dark Lord. He reached his back just as the green flame appeared. His breath caught in his throat as Harry Potter's screams echoed into the crystal night. Snape fell to his knees and cried amongst the laughter and cheers.

Harry watched the green monster emit from his lethal enemy's wand. It reared its ugly head as it cantered towards him. His last thought slipped from his mind as he heard his own screams.

"_There is nothing so sweet as to feel the venom rush through your veins and know the snake who bit you."_


End file.
